


Sacrifices.

by Katherine05s, Laugh_at_the_girl_who_loves_too_easily



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Car Sex, First Time, M/M, Rough Sex, sort of plot what plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-21 00:40:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katherine05s/pseuds/Katherine05s, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laugh_at_the_girl_who_loves_too_easily/pseuds/Laugh_at_the_girl_who_loves_too_easily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles is lost with all the sacrifices going on and he goes to Peter for help. But Peter fucks up , and causes the boy to have a breakdown.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sacrifices.

**Author's Note:**

> Love to know what you think, first time co-writing .Title may change.

The last couple of days have been boring as hell. Literally. Because from what Peter could say about their current situation, they were in hell. The Alpha Pack that threatened Derek and his little pack, wasn't going to be easy to deal with in any way.   
He knew the kind of power they had or at least suspected. It has become worrisome.

Peter sighed in the blackness of the room. He had tried to help Derek and the others, but they still didn't trust him. He has been itchy for days. He wanted to do something, but he has always been the calm calculated guy. He wouldn't stop now. That was the only thing that had kept him alive. Or at least close to being alive. He had his life back. He thought of making amends, but apparently he wasn't receiving second chances.

 

A car passed by and the lights flickered through the curtains on his face. He snapped his head up as if it would help his perfect hearing better. He knew that engine. It needed oil, but the owner was still a boy. He wouldn't know by sound what his car needed. A boy... He rolled the image of him in his mind and he was a little angry with the effect. He wasn't sure why he kept putting up with that little frightened child.  _Maybe because, even if he is human, he doesn't give up on trying to help and risk his life._  A voice said in the back of his head. He scoffed at himself. Fool! He thought. But even as he thought it, he knew he was lying tohimself. That boy, Stiles. He forced himself to think his name. He stirred up things for him. He couldn't help himself from teasing him.

 

So...what was the little one doing here at the old Hale house? Peter has come to meditate. No one bothered to come around here anymore. But what was Stiles doing here? He got up in a fluid, graceful movement. Supernatural powers had their benefits. He got close to the door and watched him trying to get in without making any noises. As if the floor wasn't squeaking under his feet.

 

For a few seconds Peter forgot to breath. He was keeping in Stile's smell. He was frightened even now, but Peter could also feel his determination. The boy's smell did things to him that made him want even more to think of him as just a boy. Because otherwise he might give in to some part he didn't know he had hidden inside of him. 

 

Peter stood there, not really hiding. He was pressed with his back against the wall trying to get a sense of what Stiles was trying to do. He wasn't in clear view. The wall he stood on was on the right side of the arcade that once introduced the living room. His body needed something, the unease was growing bigger. His body wanted violence or blood or sex. He didn't want to think about what he'd do to the boy given the chance to 'play' with him. 

 

He started taking deep breaths and tried regaining his control. The boy was coming closer. He could feel it. 

 

 

The human brain was a marvel, capable of directing and choreographing thousands of mindless daily tasks, assignments, workloads and entertainments without the owner of the brain even realizing it. It was more powerful than any computer that existed, or would come into existence over the next billion years. It was forgiving to the extent of injury location, or it could devastate by merely bursting a microsized blood vessel. It needed oxygen and knowledge to survive. It told the truth, it cued emotion, and it initiated disease. It protected through intuition, memory loss and outright deception. It could trick a man into believing something to be truth, though it might not be. The brain could make a man feel emotion, such as fear over an imagined presence, or sadness when one guesses incorrectly over a missing loved one, though neither has occurred.

The brain was capable of inducing desire merely at the sight of a flat two-dimensional photo. It could summon want merely by smell. Passion, merely by recognizing the sound of lovers going at it while the brain’s owner stood outside an open bedroom window.

And it was making Stiles go to the Hale house even though it was against all reason. He couldn’t get rid of his fear. He needed to know more about these sacrifices and he remembered Scott saying something about a laptop Peter had kept in the Hale house. Now there was the chance Peter had it at his apartment but he still had to try. 

He needed to prove to Scott and Derek mostly that it wasn’t the werewolves that were doing these sacrifices. He needed more evidence. 

So he had tried to quietly get into the Hale house and well...failed. It’s a burnt out shell of a building, what did he expect? 

Stiles stood rooted, staring at the doorway. A bar of sunlight fell across the dusty floor. A brown mouse ran along the baseboard. It was very quiet. Eerily quiet for a house near the woods.

He didn’t feel alone at all. Almost like how he knew Allison and Lydia were following them before. It never once crossed his mind that someone was actually in the house, he didn’t even plan anything to do with that and Stiles over thought ever thing. So when he was pinned up against a wall breathe ghosting over his face, nose to nose with Peter Hale whose eyes were like blue glow sticks, his bright blue eyes were both keen and mild and his teeth were enlarged into sharp fangs.

He was scared his heart was on overdrive and his chest kept rising and falling at an unbelievably fast pace but he wouldn’t back down. It wasn’t his style. Even if Peter knew what he was doing to him. The elder man snarled at him half playfully, half threatening. 

“Lo-ok I only came to find something out not cross you or something” Stiles stuttered as his arms were pinned at his side by clawed hands. For a monstrous man Stiles was obviously frightened of him but there was another side of him that Stiles could connect with. With Peter being this close he had an urge to cup his face in his hands and kiss him with all his might to make the ~~man~~ werewolf smile. 

The wall loomed above him, smooth and grey. Dust was caked on his skin and clothes, and he really wanted to wipe the dust and ash off of him. Peter looked with interest, Stiles thought. 

Stiles smiled up at him and without a word established between himself and the older man the understanding that existed between him and all people who ever had been in the position of being distrusted. His eyes could have lit up the dark room.

“You’d be great help you know, you are defiantly smart and you don’t care much about being moral...I just want to save people” Stiles started off confident but the confidence ended up being a sad whisper.

Peter let out a deep breath he didn't realize he was keeping in and gently released Stiles to the ground. He concentrated enough to retreat his claws back. It wasn't hard. It was like breathing to him after so many years of good ol' practice.

"Really? I'm smart huh?" He let the sarcasm drip out of his mouth. "I didn't notice myself." He was now pacing around Stiles, keeping him with his back to the wall. He felt too much like pray right now.

Stile staggered again :"I did...I didn't mean it like..."

"Oh, I know what you meant." He was looking at Stiles with interest he didn't want to have towards a boy. He kept eye contact with him until finally Stiles looked down avoiding his gaze. He knew he wasn't displaying werewolf eyes, but still, few kept eye contact with him. The little one was smart too, but Peter wouldn't admit to it. He was missing the heat he felt a little while ago as his body was pressed to Stile's.

"And what do you have in mind with my humble person?" He asked smiling with the right corner of his mouth going higher. He followed the line of Stile's body, remembering how it felt to be pressed to it. He could feel the tension of his body , his fear and also a little bit of something else that he was probably just imagining. Wishful thinking. Stiles had the hots for Derek and anyone with a nose strong enough could sense it when they were around each other. That thought sent a tingling through his body. The fact that he suppressed himself and his power lately reverberated through him. It was tough trying to be the good guy, or the not bad guy. Yup, that's who he was now, not the bad guy. 

Stiles was silent and Peter could feel his fear grow stronger. He had felt the power escape somehow. It wasn't uncommon, the whole town would feel it now if he just let go of all the walls he built to contain himself. Or maybe it just showed on his face.

"I'm waiting for your genius plan little boy."  _Yeah, right._  He thought sarcastically to himself.  _Little boy my ass._  He was aware of Stile's body.

He wasn't very tall or muscled, but he wasn't exactly a weakling either. Somehow Peter felt the need to protect him, to cradle his body and take care of him. He let a deep growl escape his throat.  _Enough of this shit!_  

But Stiles was now on the floor, eyes wide.  _Well fuck!_  He didn't mean to frighten him even more, he was upset with himself.

"Oh, c'mon. I promise I won't hurt you. For now. Amaze me with your thoughts." He smiled. "Just don't talk too much, I'm not in a good mood and I wouldn't want to not keep my promises."

 

“It must be hell in your head” Stiles grunted angrily through the fear. He braced himself against the wall before he lifted himself up again, trying his hardest to not stand near Peter or tempt him in anyway. Whether he liked to admit it or not he very much enjoyed Peter’s body against him, it seemed like they fit together like a jigsaw piece. 

“I think its Gerard, it may seem like a long shot but he did disappear. The three fold death is split into three distinct parts; these distinct deaths are sacrifices to three distinct gods according to the trifunctional hypothesis. The three functions are the function of sovereignty which was the virgin sacrifices because “ _she who is whole unto herself_ ” and then there is an example that Elizabeth the 1st used her virgin status to enhance her sovereignty. The second function is the military which was obvious who that was. And the third and last is the function of productivity...which is the part that baffled me. And I know everyone thinks it werewolves or druids but druids at not supposed to do human sacrifices and I don’t see the evidence for werewolves doing it. With dark Druids they might do sacrifices to heal terminal illness...Gerard had cancer.” Stiles babbled. And when he was done he regretted it. Peter said not to talk too much and what does he do? Talk too much. He shouldn’t have taken so much Adderall. His eyes were really wide and he was waiting for the inevitable throat ripping.

 

His throat began to seize up in panic. As much as he was trying to be brave (and he was being braver than the majority of humans) he couldn’t get and wouldn’t forget how Peter was when he was an Alpha. After brief hesitation Peter had back out of Stiles space so he had more room to breathe and so he knew that Peter meant no harm...yet.  The younger boy jerked out a nod of acknowledgment of his courtesy, the pace his chest rose and fell began to slow down to a near normal speed. With a pang of anxiety Stiles began to back away to the stairs so he could sit there. 

“As long as no one else dies, unless they deserve it, I’ll do anything” He murmured under his breath because it didn’t matter what volume he spoke at because a werewolf would always here especially someone as experienced as Peter. 

 

Peter ignore his first mutter, pretending not to hear it. He let Stiles ramble about sacrifices and druids and fucking Gerard, half listening and half paying attention to his every move. Why did this kid attract him so much? It was the 64 thousand dollars question.

"Anything? Oh please." He went to the stairs in a flash of moves bending over Stiles so close that he could feel his breath on his skin.

Stiles let out a little yelp, but looked him in the eyes, as if the monster he was would disappear if he blinked or worse, killed him. Apparently Stiles was still afraid.

"Could you really do anything? What if it was you who got hurt?" He couldn't help himself, he raised a hand to Stile's cheek and cupped him, trailing a little down, but stopping before the flesh ended, not wanting to get his hand off him.

Stiles turned around into his hand closing his eyes. 

Could this be? Could he really enjoy himself? He could tell his heart was beating and the effort it took the boy to do this was clearly having repercussion over his body. Stiles surprised the hell out of Peter by raising his hands to his and keeping it there. "You could protect me." Said the little brat. "I know you're trying to help, to be good. You could protect us and help us. You are strong." 

It was the first time Stiles has spoken without stammering since he came. And Peter realized with horror that his hand was still on his face caressing it. What the fuck was he doing? He retreated the hand quickly out of Stile's arms and regretted immediately the lack of warmth. What was wrong with him? 

Stile's eyes widened and fear spread through him. "Oh my God! I'm sorr...I'm sorry, I don't know what got into me. I...I ddd..I didn't mean to..."

"Quiet!" Peter yelled. He was frightened about what just happened.

Stiles was now still as a stone, eyes wide.

"Fine, Gerard might be behind this, but I'm almost 95% sure it's not him." He saw Stiles struggling to find his voice again and argue, so he held his palm up. He was now a good meter away from him so they weren't touching anymore. "I don't think it's the Alpha Pack either, I think it could be Jackson as much as it could be Gerard." He sighed and took his hand to massage his temples. He was tired, he came here to meditate and now the peace he wanted to find was gone.

"What the fuck do you want from me kid?" He was pissed with himself right now and was trying not to let it out on Stiles. 

 

 

“Ah uh guess you could be right...maybe I’m just trying to find something, anything.” Stiles mumbled, his brief bit of confidence gone when Peter got angrier than needed. “I obviously interrupted something for which I am sorry, sour wolfitude runs in the family apparently.” The younger one was annoyed now which being treated like crap when he thought no one would be here. “I’m wrong, I’m stupid and I am an annoying brat, I get it” He is told constantly. Lately it was really easy to irritate Stiles, he was only a few pushes away from snapping. Back when he was younger by nature he was all things good: compassionate, patient, honest, virtuous, and  
full of love. Anxiety was an unusual emotion for him when his mother was alive. Things were simple. No werewolves. No hunters. No supernatural trouble. He already had too much to deal with being a teenager. Unrequited love, homework, hormones etc. And because of these hormones he had an overwhelming urge to kiss the older man. 

 

Instead Stiles left Peter to stew in his own frustration. 

 

It's so dark. He can't see. He can't see the floor. He can't see his hands stretched out in front of him. He is running blind and trying to hear the pursuit he can feel behind him, but the pulse is so loud behind his ears it drowns everything else out.

 

It's cold. It shouldn't matter now, but it hurts. He is so cold.

 

The air in his nose was uncomfortable. Bad. A bad smell. His eyes filled with horrified tears.  


‘I’ve lost. It's over.’ Stiles thought to himself. 

 

They're right behind him now, loud and close. There are so many footsteps!

 

‘I am alone. I've failed’. Stiles whimpered to himself.

 

He said he would do anything to save people and even if Peter thought he wouldn’t get himself hurt to help others he was wrong. Stiles wasn’t like him. Only caring about his survival. 

 

‘The danger is behind !’ Stiles screamed back in his mind. A feeble stream of light, coming from who knows where, shines on the end of the hall. It is not the flat wall or the locked door, the  
dead end he feared and expected. It is a black hole.  
  
       An elevator shaft. Abandoned, empty, and condemned, like this building. Once a hiding place, now a  
tomb.  
  
      A surge of relief floods through him as he raced forward. There is a way. 

 

Peter was amazed by Stile's sudden surge of guts. He was either courageous or stupid. He proved he wasn't the latter, but still. As he studied his face he realized Stiles wasn't with him anymore. He panicked a little and got closer, grabbing him by the elbows and shaking him a little. "Boy! Boy! Snap out of it! Stiles! God Damn IT!" He could smell a variety of emotions emanating from him, from fear to rejection.

He took him in his arms and placed him on the dusted couch.  _What's going on in your head, Stiles?_ He didn't know what to do. He cradled his head on his lap, massaging his temples, murmuring to him. "C'mon, Stiles! Snap out of it!" 

He stilled. He looked at him and realized he didn't know what to do. A growl escaped his throat. "Stiles!"

 

Goosebumps covered the boy’s body before a gasp made his whole being convulsed. His eyes burst open and he gripped at Peter's hands his breathing was faster than usual and Peter was captivated by it, the way his chest was rising and falling, it was probably the fear that he was admiring. 

"Thank...you for staying" Stiles gasped keeping eye contact with the older man. "I don't know what happened" he choked attempting to sit up; he looked so lost like a small child, Peters hands guided him up. He knows only lose. The heart is strong and it takes a long time to lose hope. 

Peters hand rested on the back of Stiles neck. Stiles looked into his eyes and mouthed the words ‘I’m sorry ' as he collapsed back into Peters lap. Darkness and dizziness engulfing him.

When he awoke he was still on peters lap yet this time Peter seemed calmer. How long was he out for? 

Apparently a while, Peter was reading the Bestiary now. Was it a precognition? Did he see the future or was it just a wild day dream? Anything is possible in Beacon Hills. 

“Was it a dream? Because it felt so fucking real” Stiles whined as he attempted to sit again this time without collapsing. His whole body ached so much it felt like it was creaking. “You were the one who saved me you know, whatever it was, I was trapped and you saved me...silly isn’t it?” Stiles chuckled sardonically. When he stood up off the sofa all he felt was all his blood rushing to his head. No moving yet. 

Stiles decided to study Peter’s face whilst his eyes were on the bestiary. How was he so beautiful? And he defiantly knew the best way to shape his features. His new facial hair was even better than the last; it brought more attention to his lips. Sure he had a largeish nose but it wasn’t huge and it suited his face. His eyes need not be luminous blue as a werewolf because they already were. He had a jaw line of a god just like Derek, it must run in the family, and when he smiled...whether it be a smirk or a laugh, the wrinkles that gathered under his eyes and the dimples on his cheeks, it made Stiles heart bubble. 

Peter took his eyes off the bestiary as soon as he finished the paragraph. He placed it neatly on the little coffee table that was next to the couch and looked caught Stiles starring at him. He smiled mildly. "Wha'cha looking at, Casper? You're so white you could audition for Snow White." He chuckled softly. Stiles was to uncomfortable for being caught starring that he didn't come up with a smart comeback. That made Peter worry and frown a little.

"I didn't know you had nightmares about it Stiles. For how long have you had this anxiety attacks?" He asked with genuine concern in his voice.

Stiles seemed embarrassed now. The look on his face said he was trying to come up with a witty explanation and before he could Peter continued.

"Don't try to lie to me. I can smell a lie and I know how a panic attack or anxiety attack looks like. You were out for far too much." He dared raise his hand and touch Stile's small hair. He like the feel of it, somehow it was softer than it looked. But he didn't dare pet him. No. Touching him was enough.

""C'mon, Stiles. Tell me. Trust me with this and I might even help you with the sacrifices thingy." 

 

“You don’t want to help, why would you? You don’t get anything from it” Stiles spat under his breath. Unless he needing coercing. “I’ve had panic attacks for a while, it used to be about mom now it’s about anything supernatural and the sacrifices are a new thing.” Stiles couldn’t look him the eyes, there was only four people who knew about his panic attack; Scott, his father, the counsellor and Melissa. It was hard to trust Peter because even if he wanted to, the evidence was against him. He was worried about being seen as weak if people knew he had panic attacks. Would he think of him weak as well? Was he weak, because he could not force himself to not fear? He liked to think he was strong minded in sense. This idea of weakness made him flinch. Made him feel shame.

“If I offered you something in return would you help me?” Stiles pleaded, worried and already regretting his words. If anything Stiles was desperate to connect with someone on an intellectual level and...a romantic level. And Peter had everything he need or wanted. A new sensation distracted him. Something pleasant, a change in the air.  He did not open his eyes that he had closed when he was trying to think. He didn't want to be distracted. His mind gave him the words he needed, and the tone that would convey what he couldn't say without using many words.

It took him a moment before he could speak. Even then, his voice was just a breath. “If you succeed in helping me then you can do whatever you want to me?” His tone at the end madeit sound like a question. He noticed that Peter liked to touch him but he wasn’t a hundred percent certain if Peter wanted to have sex with him, an inexperienced virgin who wasn’t even sure about his sexuality. The accusation itself that Peter couldn’t just get anyone he wanted, because he could, made Stiles really awkward and a blush covered his whole stiff body.

 

Peter's smile at Stile's struggle for words turned into a grin as he spoke and erupted in a joyful laughter as he ended.   
"So generous of you little boy." He laughed a little more, unable to contain himself. He couldn't deny the fact that the idea stirred things inside him that were trying to get out, but he would never make a deal like this. If he ever was to have Stiles, it would be because he was a good hunter and Stiles would be a great conquest or prey. He'd never want to skip over the hunt.  
"I'm not quite so desperate to get laid, that I need to help people in order to obtain from you a  _little distraction_." He was still smiling. "And I don't think you'd survive my sadistic little games. Hmmm...." He mused as if thinking about something important. "I don't know if I'd like you as a werewolf....See. There isn't much I could get from you Stiles."  He was bluffing a little. He'd never really been sadistic, not normally, but never too extravagant in his ways.   
"Now, I always wondered how long it took a human body to be so frightened that it shut down, but Derek, Scott and the others wouldn't like me much if I break you." He sighed as if he had to make a tough decision and couldn't figure out what to do.

  
"The truth, little boy, is that I meant what I said." He raised his eyebrows and smiled mildly at him." I will help you because I know you need the help. You might offer yourself to me as a reward, but I don't think being in my arms is my compensation, but yours." Stiles tried to say something, but Peter didn't let him. "Ah, ah, ah. Don't forget I can smell a lie." He added serious.  
"For now I'll help you guys because I want this solved as much as you do. I live in this town too. In the end you'll come crawling to me and maybe then you'll find out what really means to give yourself to someone else." That being said his phone rang and he got it, leaving Stiles to think about what he just said

 

What he said made Stiles sick, he could feel the bile in his throat. Because it was true. He’d benefit from it more. He couldn’t lie about it. He was fed up of being left by people and if he crawled to Peter, Peter would take him and leave him yet it seemed like the better than any other option. But what made he feel more sick was that Peter, someone who saw potential in him once and even offered him the bite, didn’t see a use of him anymore. It was more than a kick in the gut, sort of pulling out teeth kind of pain. Saved by the bell , he guessed. From more humiliation. 

“Thank you for the help” Stiles mumbled, more like a whimper, as he slowly left the Hale house. Peter could probably smell his sadness, and that sucked ... but he had caused it. He no longer felt dizzy now as he climbed into his jeep and drove away. 

He only drove for about a mile before he pulled over to a barely used side road and the tears flowed out. Because of the panic attack. Because of Peter’s laughter at him. Because he felt useless. And unloved. From a fucking psychopath. 

He messed up his head more than it already was. He seemed to inject his way in a lot more than Derek did. 

Peter knew the second he let Stiles out the door that he made a huge mistake. Something about the way he was holding himself, so stiff. His pride has been hurt when Stiles offered himself to him, as if he couldn't get anyone, but he didn't mean to cause another rip on the boy, he was already scarred. He heard the car engine and the door shut and just stood there frozen. Has he said too much? Has he broken that little, beautiful mind.  _If Stiles drives into a tree it's your fault!_ A teasing voice said in his head. But what did he care?   
With a frustrated growl he got out the door and ran into the forest after him. He planned to follow him home and make sure he was safe. See! He wasn't a complete bastard. The night hit him full force and his beast roared inside his head demanding release, demanding he changed and let himself go, run through the woods and hunt down deers or rabbits. It was funny how much he enjoyed hunting, when in reality he was such a calm person, but the calculated side of him was a true hunter and being a werewolf only amplified that. He was almost close to the edge of the forest when he realized the tracks lead to a side road. He got close to the car and could hear Stiles. He was breathing hard and Peter knew what he was doing. He was crying. Something clenched inside Peter. His stomach clenched, his heart stopped and he starred a little at the whimpering boy in front of him.  _What have I done?_ He thought. He couldn't let him be like this. This was his fault.   
  
He got closer to Stiles and noticed the shock on his face, eyes got a little wide, but that was all the reaction he could manage. Tears were gliding down his cheeks and all he wanted was to lick them dry. He grabbed him by the shoulders to straighten him out, pushing his back on the right door of the truck and pressed his lips to his. Softly at first, as if he was going to break. He didn't want to break him more than he already did. Thank you very much. But the beast wanted more and he'd be cynical to say that only his animal side wanted more. So he pushed harder, until Stiles opened up for him. He took over as soon as those lips opened for him, pushing his tongue inside his mouth and dancing around his flesh as if to taste everything he was allowed at the moment. A small growl of satisfaction got out of his throat, vibrating through their mouth and he finally released him, backing up slowly, starring into his eyes as if was just waking up from a deep dream, unable to say anything. 

 

Stiles was breathing deeply through his nose. He wasn’t certain about his emotions, he still felt upset, his tears had stop falling now though his cheeks were still stain with tears, yet he really wanted to jump Peter’s bones. Like a lot. The growl that went through both of them was making all of his blood go south. He never thought that Peter would follow him home; maybe he does have a heart? He is sooo glad he did though. He knows this probably won’t go that far but did it make him feel a least a little bit more loved and less humiliated. 

There was a spark ...wasn’t there? 

He dragged Peter by his shoulder, back on top of him, crashing their mouths together. He felt like he could feel everything Peter had ever felt ...every emotion, every thought. God he could do this all day. Exploring Peter’s mouth with his tongue was delicious and the battle for dominance was even better. Peter one. Obviously. 

Stiles ran his hands through Peter’s hair trying to pull him even closer. Which wasn’t physically possible. But that didn’t stop the young boy. He darted his tongue out of Peter’s warm cavern so he could suck on Peter’s tongue whilst it was in his mouth. He wanted to feel that vibration rock through him again. For someone who was in a coma for 6 years he can kiss exceptionally well. 

 

  
Peter felt silly at first. what has he done? Why has he kissed him? But he knew why. He was so helpless, so in need of something that Peter wanted to give to him. As the fog cleared he wanted to apologize . Oh, neah, not really. He didn't do apologizes, but he would have said it was a mistake and change the subject with sarcasm or something. Of course that was before Stiles surprised him by dragging him back into his arms. He felt his arms in his hair and his mouth on his own and his blood boiled. He suddenly wanted to go closer, he could feel Stile's body reacting to his own and approved it with another deep sound from his throat. He jerked Stiles from the ground, half holding him, half pressing him into the truck. His legs were dangling and Peter wished he would close them around his own torso.   
Stiles did it and Peter could now feel the hardness of Stile's body. It was making him wanton. He deepened the kiss, exploring with his mouth, dancing with his tongue. And for the first time in years, he felt like he was letting go.

 

Oh.My.God. Stiles was on the verge of moaning as loud and whore like as loud as possible that probably would be heard in town. He desperately wanted to be so close to him. And feel all of him. It was strange that this was a different side of Peter. He was grinding his hips against the older man and stifling his moans by biting into his shoulder, on the place where the skin was showing. He wanted Peter himself to bite him; he sort of had a kink for violence. He’ll blame it on his father being a Sheriff. He guessed that he had another kink because the fact that he could be caught with Peter at any point was defiantly working something. And humping against his jeep was even better. How can someone want more of someone when they are already this close?

 

Peter was feeling hot all over and knew Stiles was feeling the same, but there was that thought in the back of his mind that made him question Stile's feeling. Was he over Derek?Who? Peter insecure? Never! But he still felt like this wasn't the appropriate situation. The problem was he couldn't make himself stop and damn if he really wanted to.   
Stiles moved his hips and made him go crazy. Peter planted kisses on his neck going slowly to his ear and nipping it. He liked what Stiles was doing with his mouth and wanted it in other areas of himself too. He grounded his hands on his ass and sustained his entire weight just enough to pull the door to the car open and turn around to sit on the driver's seat with Stiles in his lap giving him space to move.

 

Fuck me. Please. He wonders if he said that out loud or not. Was he over Derek? Hell to the no. Did he care? No. Because he had a connection with Peter, whatever it was, it worked. Whether it was just arousal or intellect. It still work right now. Peter seemed a little bit like it was a problem but that fact that Stiles was now sat on his lap in his jeep was good enough for him. And lord was it fun for him to grind his ass onto Peter’s raging hard on. The way he face shaped and the noises he tried so hard to simmer down. Stiles had given up on being quiet now, he honestly thought that it was possibly making Peter harder. 

“I want you to occupy my mouth” Stiles panted with a grin from ear to ear. The first smile he had pulled since Peter had got there. 

Well, he hadn't actually said that either, but he smiled like crazy because that's what he was thinking.  
Peter gasped at the feel of Stiles.   
Stiles took Peter's shirt out of his pants slowly, teasingly. He put his hands on his chest massaging, trailing down the hair on his chest untill he reached his pants and started pulling out his belt and opening his pants. Peter was shuddering, his hands on either side of him, supporting himself up, for Stile's reach. He kept his eyes closed enjoying the caresses.   
Stiles took his reaction as a "go on" and slipped Peter's hardness out of his pants, gently stroking it. He was amazed at how big peter was, eager, but a little scared too at how it will feel to have that inside him. Peter growled softly, a deep throaty sound, that made Stiles as hard as he felt Peter in his hands. He tugged at the shirt and all the buttons shattered through his truck. Peter's chest was revealed and his skin seemed translucent in the moon's light. He pressed his lips to his chest kissing it just above his heart, than he slowly trailed down, stopping at each nipple to lick it and give it the proper attention. By now he could feel Peter's heart beating faster, his breath hardening. He continued until he got at the juncture at his thighs. He looked up at Peter, who was now looking back at him. Stiles could see the hunger, the desire and the want in those eyes. He breathed above the head of him and he felt him shuddered and without any other hesitation closed his mouth around him, tasting him and exploring him. Peter moaned and growled and sounded like something between an animal and a human being. Stiles liked the effect he got so he continued. He used his hands to cup him, while he worked his mouth over him, he could taste his eagerness.   
Peter transferred his weight on one hand and used the other to pet Stiles hair. After he felt like he can't take it anymore he pulled Stiles up to him for a kiss that would bruise his lips. They ate at each other, with hunger. It felt like they couldn't get any closer to one another, their tongues dancing in each others mouths. Stiles moaned, he liked the penetration of Peter's tongue inside his mouth. And suddenly he could feel something else. He realized Peter has put his fingers in his mouth and Stiles licked them, played with them and bit them gently.  
"Get your pants off!" Peter said. And you could tell it was an effort. Stiles did as instructed and could feel Peter pressing his fingers to his back. He moaned at the penetration and felt the pleasure pain pass through him as Peter got him ready.

  
Stiles grabbed Peter's arm and motioned for the chairs. Peter understood immediately and took Stiles airborne. It was quite easy with his strength. He put Stiles on the chair on all fours and slowly cradled his body with his, kissing his back and his neck. Then he clasped his waist with his hands, which made Stiles even hotter than he already felt. He felt Peter hard against his entrance and had one of those Stiles moments.  
"Wait! Wait, wait, wait." He said. Peter was perplexed for a second, but then he saw Stiles fumbling through his gloves compartment and getting out a condom, handling it to him. Peter put it on with a smirk and once again took hold of Stile's hips. He nudged at him and pushed slowly, gently.  
Stiles moaned. "Oh, God!"

  
And Peter couldn't not be concerned. "Am I hurting you?" And it was there, in his tone, Stiles knew that if he told him to stop he would, no questions asked. But he wanted this so he manage to say something even though he was out of breath.  
"No, please, don't stop, continue."  
"But I don't want to hurt you."   
"It's supposed to hurt at the beginning." He said half smiling.  
Peter couldn't see him, but he could smell Stile's determination. He pushed a little more and slid out and worked him gently, each time pushing a little more inside. He was big and was thinking about not pushing his entire length inside when Stiles pushed back and took him all in. They both froze for a moment. Peter stiffened, because he didn't know if he could move without hurting Stiles and Stiles stood there accommodating to the new feel of Peter inside. Then Stiles relaxed and Peter took over, moving in and out, slowly. In , then out. Stiles grunted."Harder."   
Peter half chuckled, because he was out of breath himself and the pleasure was to much to control. He went harder, faster reaching between them to stroke Stiles as he pushed inside him.   
They were both sweating and moaning and they felt good. The moment was building for Peter. Stiles was so tight around him, that it was unbearable, but he could tell that Stiles was close too, his length was hard and pulsing in his hand.   
"I'm cumming." Peter half murmured and it was all that Stiles needed to hear to come himself. He felt Peter pulsing inside him and his own release was spilling on his driver's chair which he'll later have to clean, but fuck it.  
Peter came into the condom while he felt Stiles spasm around him. They both shuddered for a few moments, moaning and panting.   
Stiles was now completely held by Peter's hands on his hips, his own hands and legs giving in from the entire experience. They were breathing hard. They stood there a little, Peter pulled out and then with one of those quick moves Peter got on his back on the chairs under Stiles, letting him collapse on himself.   
Vaguely, Stiles thought, Peter was going to get his juices from the chair on his back and it was like he was marked by him, but he was too tired to think about it. He just laid there on top of Peter both trying to regain their breathing.

 

“Look who came crawling” Stiles chuckled as he collapsed against Peter. Not that he was going to complain that he did. Fuck that was good! For a day that started off so badly turned out pretty well. It never crossed his mind that he would lose his virginity to Peter freaking Hale willingly and hell was he willing to do that again. He wasn’t really quite sure how to react as this was not legal at all and no one would really approve of it, not even Scott. And maybe it was a onetime thing (he hoped it wasn’t), I mean was this the real Peter? The non-psychopathic side of him. Did he actually care? Apparently he was the type that liked to cuddle after sex, I mean they weren’t exactly snuggling but he hadn’t left yet, which was a surprise. 


End file.
